


Revelations: Darcy's Guide to Misery and Misfortune (in Ten Easy Steps!)

by orphan_account



Series: Lewis Family Traditions [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Child Abandonment, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:48:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy and her fucked-up life are just beginning to return to equilibrium when she takes a walk in the park and stumbles upon her apparently not-dead one true love. What follows is chaos, confusion, and a whole lot of terrible life choices.<br/>Sequel to Entrenchment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reevaluation, Or What the Fuck Just Happened

She's walking through Central Park with Adelaide and Simon when she sees him. There's a commotion, over in a smallish clearing, and Darcy recognizes the jackbooted thuggery milling about. Simon pulls her along, and Adelaide is beginning to fuss about lunchtime, but Darcy is fixed to the spot, all her focus on the very familiar profile of a single man in a suit. She abandons Adelaide to her uncle and strides forward, ignoring Simon's confused protestations. A young woman, dressed in SHIELD black, her dark hair loose, hurries over to Darcy as she approaches the perimeter.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but this area is off limits."

Darcy looks the girl over, distracted, focused on the suit at the center of the clearing, talking to mulan and a pair of weedy scientist types. "Yeah, yeah, I get it, but--"  
"I said off limits!" The woman is insistent, intent and a little high pitched. 

Darcy grits her teeth. "I can tell you're new and you don't know who I am but that's my husband." She pushes past the agent, who freezes and then grabs the back of Darcy's jacket. Darcy turns, ready for a fight, still in a bit of a haze, but Simon has walked closer, Adelaide in her stroller, trying to kick off her little pink booties. 

"Darce--" Simon is confused, hesitant. 

Darcy pauses, licks her lips, debating internally. with one last look back into the clearing she brushes the agent off, and follows Simon back onto the paths. 

  
When they reach the edge of the park, Darcy kisses her daughter on the nose, hands Simon bus fare, and hails a taxi, deflecting all of her brother's attempts to communicate. 

She pulls up in front of Stark tower, stalking into the lobby, quelling the receptionist with a venomous look. JARVIS lets her into the elevator, and takes her up to the penthouse office level. Stark is tinkering with something on a screen, and has barely turned around before Darcy starts shouting. 

"How long have you known?" Darcy shoves Stark, and he stumbles back a few steps. "How long have you known?"

Stark looks bewildered, completely caught off guard. "What the hell? Known what?"

Darcy snarls, grabbing the front of his shirt. She searches his face, though, and takes a few steps back. She's breathing hard, her hands beginning to shake. 

"Darcy, what happened?"

"He's alive, Phil's alive, I saw him, I was in Central Park and I saw him."

Stark freezes. "Impossible. They couldn't hide something like that. I've got Jarvis monitoring the SHIELD network, there's been nothing--"

"Actually, sir, there was an operation in Central Park today, a cleanup. Managed by something called Team Lazarus."

Starks face darkens, his fists clenching like he's reaching for repulsors. "Lazarus."

"Yes sir."

Darcy feels dizzy, frail. "I'm going to kill them," she whispers, swaying slightly. "Fury, Hill, all of them."

* * *

Skye elbows Ward, grinning. "I fended off a crazy all on my own today. Can't handle the perimeter, my ass!"

Ward snorts. "I'm sure you preformed admirably and didn't scare any old ladies too badly."

"She wasn't old, dude, she was hot. I mean I think she had a kid with her, but like dang. It was weird, though--" Skye trails off, frowning. "Have any of you ever been married?"

Ward frowns, leaning forward. "Why?" 

"She could tell I was new, and it seemed like she thought I should recognize her? And she said something about her husband..."

Mae interrupts from the doorway. "Did she tell you her name?"

"No, but the man she was with called her, what was it, like, Darce?"

Ward looks at Mae, and stands. "Don't repeat that to anyone."

* * *

Darcy is sitting on Stark's couch, nursing a tumbler full of something she's pretty certain is hooch, while Stark tears the SHIELD servers to shreds. An hour passes, and another, and then the elevator doors ding open to reveal an apoplectic Fury, trailed by Hill and Mulan. 

"Stark, what the fuck are you doing?"

Stark doesn't turn away from his monitors, but Darcy stands, swaying slightly. 

"Hello, director." She finishes off her glass with a grimace and steps around to face Fury. "How are you? Nice to see you. Where's my dead husband?"

Hill, to her credit, flinches. "Miss Lewis--"

"It's still Mrs. Coulson, thanks."

"Don't try my patience, Darcy Evelyn Lewis. I'm still wondering why we didn't have you killed last summer."

"The kid probably threw a wrench in things." Stark has finally turned away from his tech. "That and your ambiguously terrifying spy duo are pretty fond of her."

Fury rolls his eye, snorting derisively. "Be that as it may."

"Mrs. Coulson?" Mulan steps forward. "I'm Agent Mae, I've been working with Phil on Lazarus."

"I've been calling you Mulan in my head."

Hill raises an eyebrow. "Are you drunk?"

"Excessively. Stark is in possession of some good old down home hooch. Don't change the subject."

Agent Mae clears her throat and continues. "Phil is doing very well, he's happy. I wanted you to know that."

Darcy laughs hysterically. "I don't give a fuck if he's happy. I'm raising a kid on my own in a ruined city, no job, no health insurance, no survivors benefits, and he's off saving the world. He can go fuck himself."

"He doesn't remember you," Fury interjects. 

Darcy freezes.

"The Director thought he was a more valuable asset in his unattached state," Hill explains, a hint of bitterness in her smooth voice. 

Darcy can't breathe, can't think. being abandoned was so much better than being forgotten. She staggers, and Stark catches her, guiding her back to the couch. 

* * *

"Where'd agent Mae go?" Coulson pokes his head into the lounge, looking over his team. 

Ward shrugs. "She stayed in New York. Business with Fury, I think."

Skye fidgets, Ward shooting her a warning glare. Coulson, though, hones in on the interaction.

"Skye, what did you do?"

"Nothing! This had nothing to do with me!" Skye pouts, sinking lower into the sofa.

Coulson raises an eyebrow. "Ward?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Why is Mae meeting with Fury?"

It's Ward's turn to fidget. "There was an incident? With a civilian? When Skye was on perimeter?"

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Skye grouches, kicking Ward in the shin.

Coulson sits down on the coffee table and stares intently at the two of them, silent. 

They all three sit there for several minutes, until Simmons walks in carrying a tablet. "Ward, I got the results back on that DNA swab, you were right, the woman in the park was Darcy Lewis."

Ward scowls at Simmons, who freezes. "Bugger, was that supposed to be a secret?"


	2. Evasion, or Don't Ever Make Big Life Choices When You're Angry

Darcy stares at Phil, rage beginning to consume her vision. "Yeah, okay, I'm done."

"What?"

"I was perfectly happy to raise a kid with you. However, in no way was I prepared to throw aside my whole life to work three jobs while my husband just fucked off to Tahiti in a sportscar." Darcy pulls an index card out of her wallet and throws it on the table. "Allergies, blood type, emergency contacts, doctors." She draws herself up to her full height, crossing to the door. "I'll be back in a few months. Don't follow."

She makes it almost to the plane's gangway before Clint catches up with her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He grabs her arm, yanking Darcy to a stop.

"I'm leaving, Clint. Plain and simple."

"You can't just abandon your kid!"

Darcy pulls her arm out of Clint's grasp, shoving him away. "I'm not abandoning her. I'll be back. But right now? It's Phil's turn. I gave up everything, absolutely everything. And that was okay, there wasn't another option. But now?" Darcy laughs, eyes cold. "Turns out he's been alive this whole time, running around with his merry band of secret agents, saving the world and not coming home to me, not coming home to his daughter. It's his turn to make the sacrifices."

Clint grabs Darcy's shoulders, pulling her closer and forcing her to make eye contact with him. "Darcy, he doesn't know all that. He doesn't remember you, or that he has a kid. You're just some intern he met in New Mexico, who's suddenly leaving him with a baby he has no connection to. You can't do that to him, and you especially can't do that to Del."

Darcy stares at Clint, breathing hard. "Sounds like his problem, not mine."

"Clint." Natasha has crept up on them, putting a small hand on her partner's shoulder. "Let her go."

Clint freezes, and pulls his hands off Darcy. He's still furious, his jaw set, hands clenched, but when Darcy leaves, he doesn't follow.

 

Phil is standing in his office, staring at the baby in the stroller. She's playing with what looks like a necklace, or a chain with some trinkets on it. She puts one of the items in her mouth, gnawing on it, smiling. Phil is still just standing and watching the baby when Natasha returns.

"Is Barton alright?"

Natasha purses her lips. "He's fairly pissed."

"At me or Miss Lewis?"

Natasha sighs heavily, and crouches down next to the stroller. "Both. Mostly at Darcy, though. You know how he is about kids." 

Adelaide lets the chain fall from her mouth and gurgles happily at Natasha, who picks her up.

"Natasha, I don't..." He's stuck, staring at the baby still, frowning slightly.

"This is Adelaide Victoria Coulson. She's just about four months old, and she's your daughter."

"That's not possible, I--"

"I was at your wedding, Phil. Clint and I both. The day you died was the day Darcy told you she was pregnant, you told everyone, you were so excited."

"I don't remember any of that, Nat." Phil sounds lost, angry. "That never happened to me."

Natasha looks away from Phil, pulling Adelaide's toy away and replacing it with her SHEILD badge. She tosses the chain to Phil, who catches it on instinct. 

"What--" He looks at the items on the chain. A gold wedding band, a high school class ring from some private academy in New York, and dogtags. His dogtags, from the Rangers. He sits down, head in hands.

"You're going to remember, I'll make sure of that. You did the same for me."

 

They stay in the office for a while, Phil watching quietly while Natasha plays with the baby on the floor, pulling faces and playing peek-a-boo.

Eventually the team returns, and Skye saunters into the office, waving her badge. "Level two, Coulson! I told you--"

She freezes. "Woah."

Ward, right behind her, straightens up. "Agent Romanoff."

Nat looks up. "Agent Ward."

Skye's eyes bug out further. "Woah."

"Is Agent Mae with you?"

"She's with FitzSimmons, downstairs. Would you like me to get her?"

"No, that's alright. I'll catch her on my way out." She stands, and Adelaide reaches up for her. "Sorry, sweetie. I'll see you soon." Natasha bends down and kisses Adelaide on the top of her fuzzy little head, and leaves. 

Ward and Skye stand in the doorway, watching Phil watch the baby. "Coulson, there's a baby on your floor." 

Ward elbows Skye in the ribs. 

"What? It's true, and it's kind of freaking me out."

"Go check on FitzSimmons, Agent Skye." Ward pushes her out of the office, and closes the door. 

"Sir?"

Phil looks up. 

"Does this have to do with the incident in the park?"

"Yes. Romanov is probably debriefing Mae. You should speak with her as well."

"Yes, sir." As Ward leaves, Leo and Jemma bolt past him.

"Oh my god, there is a baby."

Fitz tugs at Simmons' sleeve. "D'you think I can say hi?"

Jemma snorts. "It's a baby, not a dog."

Apparently Fitz takes this as an affirmative and kneels in front of Adelaide. "Hello!"

Del gives him a gummy smile, cooing. 

"Oh, you're just precious." He taps her on the nose, and she grabs his finger. 

Phil stands abruptly. "Watch her for a moment, will you?"

Simmons nods uncertainly, and goes to sit by Fitz as Phil walks out, clutching the chain.

 

Natasha is waiting for Coulson in the cargo bay. She's talking with Ward and Mae while Skye looks on, still looking fairly freaked out. Phil feels the same.

He pulls Natasha aside midsentence, and she glares at him. "You can't leave her here."

"Yes, I can. She's not my daughter, she's yours."

"I can't raise a kid, Natasha," he hisses, looking furtively over at Ward and Mae.

"That's what Darcy said. And she did pretty good."

"I am not a twenty-year-old intern, Natasha. I can't just take a few months off to babysit."

Natasha's expression hardens. "Don't be an ass."

Phil grits his teeth. "What if I order you to take her back?"

"Then I'll ignore you. And don't try to rope Clint into this either, because he'd be even less cooperative. Tough love, Phil, it's what you taught us."

"But--"

"And fair warning? Everyone knows you're alive. No more cozy plane gig. I expect Stark is already halfway to tracking you down."

* * *

Phil decides to just bite the bullet and go see Stark himself. He leaves the baby with Fitz, who seems perfectly happy to continue to watch over her. 

"Excellent, now I don't have to track you down myself." Stark stands from the couch as Phil walks in. He tilts his head to the side. "Where's Del?"

Phil frowns. "I left the baby with my team."

Stark stares at Phil, incredulous. "You just left your kid with a bunch of spies?"

"She's not my kid."

"Yeah, Coulson, she is."

Phil scrubs a hand over his face. "I need a drink."

"No shit."

 

"Natasha said you'd come looking for me. She said..." Phil sighs, and takes a sip of his drink. "I don't remember any of what she was telling me. She and Clint just showed up with Miss Lewis, and with the baby."

"Adelaide."

"What?"

"Her name is Adelaide."

"I know." Phil pauses. "That's a name I would choose."

 

"Do you remember the night you came in here to tell me about Loki?"

Phil frowns. "Yes. Pepper was here, and after I gave her a ride to the airport. She interrogated me about my love life."

Stark calls up a holoscreen from the coffee table. "Pepper was here, but..." He pulls up a security log from a year previous. "The rest of that isn't true."

Phil watches himself on the screen, holding hands in the elevator with Darcy, how he doesn't break contact with her, even when she's snapping at Stark. He hears himself tell the girl he loves her, sees himself look at her like she's the only thing in the world.

"I don't understand."

Stark sits back. "Hill said SHIELD thought you were more valuble in your 'unattached state.'"

"Fury did this."

"Yeah. Sounds like he would have had Darcy killed, too, but Barton and Romanov wouldn't allow it."

Phil sits silently for a few minutes, processing. He finishes his drink, and stands. "I have to go." As he's getting in the elevator, Stark stands.

"You should talk to Cap. He met her, once. Thor, too, obviously, but he's MIA right now."

"Thanks, Stark."

"Anytime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait a few more days but I just couldn't help myself.


	3. Backstop, Or Heart to Heart (Ugh)

Phil perches in the copilot's seat, suit jacket tight across his tense shoulders. "What did he do, Mae?"

Mae shrugs, eyes forward. "What he thought he needed to."

"I'm not so stupid that I'll say I trusted Fury, but..."

"You trusted the system."

"Yeah." Phil sits back, slouching slightly into the seat. "Part of me wants to confront him. Hell, part of me wants to crush him. He tampered with my mind. But I don't trust him, or the system, so I don't trust that he'll leave Miss Lewis out of it."

"Would you rather he have let you die?" Mae's tone is neutral.

"No. Yes. I don't know. I'd rather not be involved in this shitstorm." Phil sighs heavily, losening his tie. "I have to wait it out. Just like with, well, with the other thing. Everything has to come to light eventually, right?"

* * *

Simon comes home that evening to find Darcy packing. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry about it."

"Darcy, where's Adelaide?"

"With her father." Darcy pushes her suitcase shut, yanking the zipper closed.

"I don't understand." Simon goes to grab his sister's shoulder, but she pushes him away. "Darcy, what happened after the park? You ran away and then four hours later you're passed out drunk on the couch and this morning you were just gone. And now you're packing?"

Darcy ignores Simon, grabbing a toiletry bag from under the sink in the bathroom. 

"Darcy, talk to me." Simon takes the bag away and grabs her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. "What happened?"

"It's complicated," she whispers, casting her eyes down.

"No, that's crap. You've been hiding something for a long time now, and I've let you, but enough is enough. You have to talk to me, I can't help you if you don't let me."

Darcy stares stubbornly at Simon's chest for several minutes, refusing to look up, and finally he just pulls her in for a hug, holding her tight. "If you just talk to me, explain to me why you're leaving, I'll let you go. I won't fight you, as long as you give me a reason."

 

Darcy lights a cigarette, hands shaking, and begins to talk. "It started with my internship. I was working with Jane Foster, an astrophysicist. She was studying an atmospheric anomoly in the New Mexico desert. It turned out to be an Einstien-Rosen bridge. That was when we made first contact with Thor, and I suppose with Loki. SHIELD showed up, to classify Jane's research, and with them came Agent Phil Coulson. Between Thor's visit in March and my graduation in June, I spent a lot of time with Phil. I was pretty useless, except for fetching coffee and monitoring Jane's personal hygiene, and Phil there to supervise SHIELD's role in her research. Neither of us had a lot to actually do. We got married right before I left to come back home, before he had to move onto a different operation. We saw each other every couple of months between then and the Chitauri Invasion. I told him I was pregnant the day before the battle, which happened to also be the day before he died. But yesterday, in Central Park, I saw him. After I left you and Del, I went to see Stark. I thought he had known and just not told me, but it turns out that SHIELD had kept it not only from me, but from most of the team as well."

"The team?"

"The Avengers. Clint, the guy at the hospital when I had Del, he's Hawkeye. He was in New Mexico, too, on security. He and Nat were at the wedding. They've worked with Phil for years." Darcy stubs out her cigarette. "SHIELD did something to Phil, though, when they saved him. He doesn't remember me, or Adelaide."

"So you just left her with him?"

Darcy shrugs. "I need time, and a whole lot of space. I'm going to go work for Jane again, and I can't take Adelaide with me."

"But you can leave her with a shady government agency?"

"Nat's going to check in every once in a while. I trust her not to let Phil fuck up."

Simon stares at his sister. "I thought I was in over my head. Darce, how could you keep this quiet?"

Darcy laughs. "I didn't have a choice. 'S too dangerous to let these things slip, especially with all the backlash SHIELD and the Avengers are getting lately." She leans against Simon, putting her head on his shoulder. "I couldn't put that on you. I'm supposed to protect you, remember? I can't do anything about all your supernatural crap,

Simon, but I can keep you from this."

"But who's going to protect you, Darce? All that superhero stuff, that's not your world."

"It really is, Simon. They love me, mostly because they love Phil, but me too. The Director said today that he tried to have me killed last summer, to tie up his loose ends, I suppose, but Clint and Nat wouldn't let him."

"And you trust this Nat with Adelaide?"

"You've met her, Simon, remember? She brought food and baby stuff when Del was first born. Also, she's the Black Widow, but you probably shouldn't know that."

"Oh, yeah, trust a master assassin with your kid." Simon rolls his eyes so hard they nearly pop out of their sockets.

"She's a softie, really. Clint too, but he's pretty pissed at me right now. He thinks I'm abandoning Adelaide."

"You are."

"I'm taking a break. Phil needs to remember his old life, and I think she's the one to make that happen. But I can't be around him right now."

"You can at least leave her with me, Darce. I don't feel good about leaving her with strangers."

Darcy laughs. "You honestly think she'd be any safer living with a vampire and a werewolf than with some SHIELD agents?"

"She'd be with family, Darce."

"She is with family. And I want Phil to spend time with her, and I want to keep you out of that whole mess. Simon, you said that if I explained to you that you'd let me go, no issue. I need you to keep that promise."

Simon sigs heavily, pressing a kiss to his sisters cheek. "I will."

* * *

"Captain, thanks for stopping by."

Cap looks Phil over, pensive. "Stark told me you were alive and I thought he was just pulling my leg. But you're really here."

Coulson raises a shoulder in a half-shrug. "The miracles of modern medecine, I guess."

"How's Darcy? Hell of a shock, I bet."

Phil tenses slightly. "Stark didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Cap leans forward in his chair, brow furrowing. "Is she alright?"

"She left." Phil pauses, thinking, not wanting to show his full hand, not wanting to create a situation that would provoke Fury further. "When they brought me back, there were complications. Memory loss."

Cap sets his jaw. "Memory loss?"

"I have no recollection of my relationship with Miss Lewis. She, well, took it badly, to say the least."

"So she left you." Cap rubs a hand over his face. "Christ. She let you see Adelaide first, though, yeah?"

"Miss Lewis, Darcy, didn't take her daughter. Captain, she left Adelaide with me."

Cap looks up sharply. "Darcy just abandoned her kid?"

"She said she'd be back. Haven't heard from her, though."

"You don't seem too broken up about it."

"There's not much to be broken up about. I really don't remember anything about her."

Cap sits back in his chair, slouching uncharacteristicly. "Natasha said things were bad, but..." he sighs. "Family shouldn't be torn apart like that. It's not right. I saw her a couple days after the attack, when Natasha and Clint brought her to see Loki. She was shattered, Coulson. She looked bad."

Phil swallows, guilty. He may not remember loving Darcy, and he's certainly not happy with her for dumping a kid on him, but he can understand, to some extent.

Trauma needs time to heal, and Darcy never had any. 

"Is there anything I can do, to help with the memory? I only met her twice, most of what I know about her is from what you mentioned that day on the helicarrier, or what Natasha's told me since, but anything helps, right?" Cap's face is hopeful, tentative.

Phil sighs. "I'd like that, Captain. Thank you."

Cap smiles softly. "Good. You know, I met her before I ever met you. She's a hell of a girl, Coulson. She really is."

* * *

For the third day in a row, Simon comes home to a surprise. This time, though, it's not his sister in varying states of distress, but rather a man standing bewildered in the bedroom-turned-nursery. 

Simon reacts on instinct, and within seconds he has the man pinned up against the wall, his fangs drawn, snarling. It only takes another few seconds before he recognizes the man: he picked up Darcy from the apartment the day before the invasion. 

Simon steps back, and the man holds his hands up in deference.

"You must be Phil."

The man nods. "And I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."

"Simon Lewis, Darcy's brother. We only met once, but aparently you've lost memory so I guess we haven't met at all." Simon turns away from the man, in a show of faith, to reset the bookshelf overturned in his attack. "She left last night, if you were wondering, and I don't know where to."

"I'm just here to pick up some of, some of her things."

Simon fixes him with a cold stare. "You mean some of Adelaide's things?"

"Yes."

"Well I'll just let you do that, then." Simon turns on his heel and takes up residence on the couch. A little while later, Jordan slouches in the front door, and immediately takes up a defensive stance. 

"Simon, there's a dude in the apartment who isn't one of the usual dudes in the apartment."

"It's a seriously long story that you do not in any way, shape, or form want to know. Relatedly, my sister has moved out."

"What about the kiddo?"

Simon jerks a thumb behind him at Phil, who's just emerged from Darcy's room carrying an implausable amount of baby stuff. "The dude."

"She okay?"

"Del, probably. Darcy, definitely not. But she's not letting me help her, so I figure she's gotta deal with some stuff on her own." Simon looks over at Phil. "You can leave, now. I'd really like to have a serious conversation with you about how you've apparently treated my sister, but since you're claiming amnesia there's really fuck all I can do."

Phil nods, and leaves. Natasha's waiting for him in the driver's seat of the car, texting viciously. 

"How'd it go?"

"Her brother was there." Phil throws everything in the backseat of the SUV, then gets in the passenger's seat. "I think he's a vampire?"

Natasha hums an affirmation. "Clint's got fifty on the roommate is a werewolf, but I think that's just preposterous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can we talk about how fucking cute that scrabble scene was seriously i love everyone on that damn plane


	4. Rendezvous, Or Don't Get the Interns Drunk

Living with an infant aboard the plane is not nearly as difficult as Phil had imagined. He hires a nanny, because apparently SHIELD has those, and the thing only cries for its mother for a week or so before settling down into normalcy. Somehow Natasha gets a hold of some of Phil's childhood photo albums, and takes to mailing him comparison shots of baby Phil and Adelaide. He's pretty sure she's getting the pictures of Adelaide from either Mae, the traitor, or the security cams. Eventually Mae bullies him into actually spending time with the kid. It's not that Phil doesn't like children, he loves them. He's always wished that he could settle down and raise a family, but he knows that's not possible. Or, he knew. He thinks he knows.

He has much more sympathy for Natasha's early days now that he himself has been programmed.

As the weeks progress, and as spring turns into summer, Phil begins to remember. He's not sure if it's Fury's voodoo wearing off, or Adelaide's influence, or his own near-constant revision of any security footage, mission report, or story involving him and Darcy. Maybe it's the latter, and maybe he's internalizing rather than remebering, but one morning in late July Phil wakes up missing his wife so much it hurts.

Clint's still not speaking to him or (presumably) Darcy, so Phil calls Natasha. "I miss her."

"That's good."

"Do you know where she is?" Phil's tried to look, but every time he gets close to finding her, he gets booted off the servers. He's not sure if it's Fury or Tony, but either way he's frustrated.

"Yes."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"No." Natasha sounds bored, even though Phil can clearly hear gunshots in the background.

"Why not?"

"She has to come to you. She's the one who left. If you go chasing after her, you might push her away further."

Phil sighs. "Can you at least tell me how she's doing?"

"I'm not sure you want to know."

"Nat--" He slumps back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "Please."

"She's not doing great. She misses Adelaide." Natasha pauses. "Phil, you have to remember that she's practically just a kid. This is all way over her head, and you're not the only upset in her life right now. She really needs the space, and she hasn't had anytime to simply process since practically New Mexico."

Phil swallows, guilty. "How--"

"It's not your fault, Phil, that's not what I'm saying. Darcy made her own choices. But she also got tossed into a whole new world." Nat swears sharply, and the gunfire intensifies. "Phil, she was just starting to recover from your death when she saw you in the park. That's a hell of an emotional whiplash, alright?"

"I understand."

"Of course you do. Now, I have to take care of a few things. Kiss Adelaide for me."

The line goes dead, and Phil buries his face in his hands. Emotional whiplash is right.

* * *

Darcy shouldn't be doing this. Darcy really, really shouldn't be doing this, but she's drunk and she's hurting and Jane just swanned the fuck off with Thor, leaving her with the intern and a city full of new places to get absolutely smashed. Saving the day was all well and good, but Darcy could've done without Asgardian guilt-tripping.

Thor, bless him, had asked after Adelaide over a hastily-assembled tea, while Jane fidgeted awkwardly and Erik and the intern just looked confused. Darcy looked Thor in the eye and told that Phil was alive. He was overjoyed, especially in light of his own recent losses, but wouldn't understand Darcy's inability to forgive. Jane, though, deflected as Darcy began to ossify, and all the god could do was shoot sad-eyes at her every few minutes.

And so after Jane and Thor go off to rock the boat and after Erik leaves for the university, Darcy takes the intern drinking. She gets him to fuck her in the bathroom of the third pub they stumble into, and then they go back to Jane's and he falls asleep in the armchair, and Darcy retreats to the roof to smoke.

She had bad habits in high school, and worse ones in college, but New Mexico was supposed to be her clean slate, and it was. She did really well, working for Jane and then falling in love with Phil. The cynical part of her mind wonders if that's what drew him in; Phil likes broken things, people or otherwise. But then he died, and the only thing keeping Darcy together was the baby, and now she's run away from that, too.

The brave, adult decision would have been to stay in New York, to tough it out. Clint's right, she's abandoning Adelaide, abandoning her responsibilities. But Darcy's not a mother. She's barely even a wife. She's twenty four years old and, for all intents and purposes, a widow. When she showed up on Jane's doorstep the night before they left for London, the scientist took one look at her and sighed, disappointed and unsurprised, but understanding nonetheless.

Thor joins her on the roof around two, dressed in fraying sweatpants and a tshirt, mjolnir still hung in the foyer downstairs. "You should go home to your child, Darcy."

"I should." Darcy pulls another cigarette from her pack and tries to light it.

"Why do you not?" Thor takes the cigarette from Darcy's lips and the lighter from her hand and tucks them in a pocket.

Darcy is silent for several long minutes, but Thor waits her out, and she eventually speaks. "Her birthday was yesterday. She's one, now."

"How long has it been since you've seen her?"

Darcy crosses her arms, walking to toe the edge of the roof. "Eight months, give or take."

Thor joins Darcy at the precipice. "I know you feel betrayed. I have felt that too. But do not let it consume you. Do not let your fear consume you." He sighs, resting a hand on Darcy's back. "The day the Chitauri invaded your world, Coulson told me you were with child. He was joyous at the news, and joyous to share."

"That man is dead."

Thor turns Darcy to face him. "No, Darcy. You must have hope."

* * *

Darcy wakes up with a start, Jane hovering over her like a nervous mosquito.

"Ok, so, don't get mad."

Darcy blinks sleepily, pushing her hair back from her face. "Okay?"

"They're sending a SHIELD team to do cleanup at Greenwich, and they asked for someone from our team to supervise."

"Okay?"

"And I figured I'd send you, because, well, you scared the other intern off and I've got a standing appointment for special time with Thor, and Erik is, how did you put it?"

"Bananaballs?"

"Yeah, so I volunteered you to go."  
"Okay?"

"And so I just got a request for you to show up at nine am sharp, curtosey of Phil Coulson."

Darcy flops backward onto her pillows. "Fuck."

Jane sits down timidly on the edge of the bed. "I can probably go with you, Thor will understand--"

"Nae, for Lady Darcy should confront her problems head-on, with valiance and honor," Thor bellows from the kitchen, where he's obviously dropping some eves.

Jane winces. "Not helping, sweetie."

Darcy sighs. "Fuck."

"And really, I would have sent the kid, but you did sleep with him and then literally throw him out, so I figure he doesn't really want to work with us anymore, and I can still send--"

"Big guy's right. I should go. I haven't seen Adelaide for, fuck, the vast majority of her life."

"Darce," Jane murmurs softly. "I'm so sorry."

Darcy shrugs, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and standing. "I brought it all on myself, Jane. Now get out, I gotta put real people clothes on."

 

Darcy is only, like, five minutes late to the heap of rubble formerly known as Greenwich University, but the SHIELD team has already started their cleanup. They're being helped by local police and what Darcy is at least 40% sure is MI6, but noone stops her as she picks her way across campus. She's within thirty feet of the knot of jackbooted thugs she's looking for when Phil turns around and sees her. He freezes, and Darcy can tell, maybe from the shine in his eyes, or the slight relief in the wrinkles between his eyebrows, or the way his shoulders tense and then relax, that he remembers. She drops the bag of Jane's mysterious science stuff on the cobblestones at her feet with a loud THUD, and then runs. Phil catches her in his arms, having met her halfway, and kisses her. Darcy feels something within her break, and kisses him back. She's crying, and smiling, and Phil's hands around her waist are stong and steady, and she melts into his grasp like there aren't a dozen hardworking government thugs giving them the stinkeye.

After a few long moments, she breaks away, burying her face in the front his suit jacket. "I'm so sorry, Phil, I'm sorry, I'm the worst, just say the word and I'll go--"

Phil lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a choked sob, and pulls Darcy even closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "No, Darce, please, it's okay." He allows himself thirty more seconds to revel in her closeness, to bury his face in her hair, to just be with her before he pushes her away gently, wiping tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. "We have to do some work, okay?"

Darcy nods, standing straight and giving Phil a watery smile. "Can't let them think you've gone soft."

"Never." He motions for one of the lackeys to grab the bag of Science Darcy abandoned, then takes Darcy's hand, lacing his fingers through hers as tight as possible.

"Come meet my team."

 

Mae smiles curtly at Darcy, and that's okay, Darcy knows there is no basis for her own forgiveness, Clint still hasn't spoken to her, and Thor's sad, disappointed looks over breakfast are becoming par for the course. Ward just nods tightly, like the top-noch secret agent man Phil introduces him as.  
FitzSimmons, who Darcy definitely met one time at a bar at a conference while supervising Jane, warm immediately, especially after the nameless lackey drops Jane's bag of scientific party favors at their feet.

"Jane said these might help with the spectroanalysis whatever, and she's got duplicates of all these, so you can, and I'm quoting, keep them as long as you pinky-swear not to hand them over to that asshole Stark." Fitz's face lights up, and Jemma grins, and they share a science boner look before returning to the conversation. "It's nice to finally meet you properly, Darcy. Adelaide is a lovely little girl."

Darcy tries very hard to keep herself from just shuttering off, from allowing her guilt and shame to crawl back into the forefront of her mind, and she does okay because the Wondertwins don't notice, but Phil does, and he forfeits holding her hand for wrapping an arm around her waist, his hand firm and comforting against her hip, his body warm against her side. "I'm sure," Darcy says, smiling as warmly as she can.

Skye is still staring, blinking, at Darcy, and after a few awkward moments she breaks, crossing her arms. "Damn, Coulson. You got some game."

Phil actually laughs at that, and Darcy shoves down a wave of jealousy, because she's never heard him laugh, actually laugh, for anyone other than her.

Thankfully, Ward drives an elbow into Skye's ribs, attempting subtlety and failing, and Skye winces.

"I mean, it's lovely to meet you again, Darcy. I apologize for trying to arrest you."

Darcy shrugs. "It happens. You're surprised, you panic, you arrest someone, or in my case, taze a god, it's all cool."

Phil snorts, and squeezes Darcy tighter. "Meet and greet done? Good. Back to work."


	5. First Impressions (Redux), or In Which Everyone Else Helps Out

They take off in a hurry for Norway, and while Phil is briefing his team, Darcy hovers at the entry to the nursery, unable to convince herself to open the door.   
That's where Simmons finds her ten minutes later, stood frozen in the hall, panic like blood on her tongue. 

"Are you alright?" Simmons puts a hand on her shoulder, and Darcy flinches away.

"I think you and I might have made out in a bar at the LA conference on weird classified science a couple of years ago."

Simmons raises an eyebrow. "I thought I recognized you."

They stand there quietly for a few more minutes, Darcy trying to compartmentalize her absolute, resounding terror.

"I can't do this," Darcy whispers. "This was a mistake, I have to go back to London, or New York, she's not going to remember me, I--"

"Darcy, she'll remember you. It's an evolutionary imperative, even after long separations. It may take a while for her to get comfortable with you again, but I can absolutely promise that Adelaide hasn't forgotten her mum."

Darcy nods, hands trembling. Simmons opens the door and gives Darcy a little push.

The SHIELD nanny is old, practically ancient, a proper grandmother of a woman, reading a storybook to a little girl in a purple dress. The nanny looks up, and smiles.

"Adelaide, there's someone here to see you."

Darcy takes a few tentative steps forward, and kneels in front of Adelaide's chair. She doesn't trust her voice, so she just smiles up at her daughter. 

"I'll go get some tea, then, shall I?" The nanny excuses herself from the room, and Adelaide frowns. 

Mustering her courage, Darcy reaches out and tucks a stray piece of dark blonde hair behind Adelaide's ear. "Delly, it's me, it's momma. Do you remember?"

Adelaide looks at Darcy as critically as a one-year-old can. "Momma."

"That's right, Delly."

With a pudgy little fist, Adelaide grabs onto Darcy's chunky glasses, pulling them off her face for examination. 

"Momma needs those, Del." Darcy tries to exchange her glasses for a trinket from the floor, but when Adelaide is forced to let go of the frames, she shrieks. Startled,

Darcy topples back, knocking over a carefully stacked tower of blocks that looks suspiciously like the old lab in New Mexico. 

Adelaide begins to cry at either the noise or the destruction or the absence of her nanny, and within moments Phil walks in. 

"Dada!" Adelaide smiles through her tears as he picks her up, settling her on his hip. Phil looks down at Darcy, still perched awkwardly on the floor, and frowns. "What happened?"

Darcy stands, with difficulty, and bolts.

 

Unsurprisingly, there aren't many places to hide on a plane. Darcy chooses a storage cupboard down in the cargo bay, surrounded by parachutes and flare guns. She manages a good twenty minutes of her panic attack before there's a tentative knock on the door. 

"Coulson said to tell you that we've landed, and that they'll all be back in a few hours," Fitz explains through the door. "It's just you and me, now, the nanny took Adelaide for a walk." He pulls over a crate and sits. "You can stay in there, though, if you'd like."

"Sorry, I just," Darcy hiccups, "I just needed a minute."

"Completely understandable. Kids are well scary. Delly's better than most, though, I have three younger siblings and you would not believe how they'd screech. Little pterodactyls, the lot."

Darcy sniffs. "Is Phil mad? I didn't mean to run off like that, I just panicked, you know, and--"

"He's not mad. He's worried about you. At least, I'm pretty sure. He's still a little hard to read, really."

Darcy laughs weakly. "You didn't even know him before he died. He used to be positively stoic. Stark used to call him Agent, before, because he was like something out of a SHIELD mold."

"You know Tony Stark?" Fitz sounds surprised.

"Peripherially. Jane, my ex-boss, she hated his guts, and then Phil introduced us. He's kind of an asshole, but he was really helpful after Phil died. Paid for my medical costs, though I think that was mostly Natasha's doing."

"You don't mean Natasha Romanov, do you?"

"She decorated Del's nursery."

* * *

Phil comes back unscathed from the mission, and Darcy's mostly managed to recover from hiding in the cupboard, and after Adelaide is put to bed and the debrief is left til morning, they retreat to Phil's quarters to awkwardly stare at each other. 

"So..." Darcy fidgets, uncomfortable with the way Phil's gaze is ghosting over her, hesitant but hungry. He looks away, dressing down from his still-crisp suit, folding each item and placing it on the little dresser. When he's just in his undershirt and boxers, he climbs under the covers. 

"Just come to bed, Darcy," Phil sighs, sounding frustrated and defeated, and Darcy obeys.

Darcy lies awake in bed for hours after Phil has drifted off. She's trying to figure out how to tell Phil about the intern incident, or even if she should. As she's contemplating the merits of just jumping out somewhere over the Atlantic, Phil stiffens, his breathing becoming ragged. He's still asleep, but his mind is quite obviously not. Darcy sits up slightly, leaning over him.

"Phil?" She knows better than to shake him awake, but she hates seeing him vulnerable like this, hates the fractures in his mind that mirror the scar across his heart. "Phil, shh, wake up."

It takes a couple seconds, but Phil jolts awake, gasping for air. 

"Hey, hey, I'm here, you're okay, I've got you." She presses a kiss to his shoulder, and wraps an arm around his front. "You're fine, I'm right here." Darcy can feel his heart pounding, can feel the tension in his shoulders, and she holds him, quietly, until his breathing evens out and he relaxes. 

"Sorry," he mutters, not looking at her.

Darcy tucks her chin into the crook of his neck. "No worries. Happens to me all the time, remember?"

"No," Phil murmurs, his voice soft, "I don't."

Darcy sighs. "It'll come back to you. You've gotten this far, yeah?" She kisses the corner of his jaw, right below his ear, and Phil lets his head fall back slightly.

"I love you, though, I remember that." Phil shifts in Darcy's grasp, turning to face her. "I love you."

Darcy smiles, her heart aching. "I know." She kisses him properly, pressing her body against his, pulling him in close. Phil kisses her back, ferociously, his grip on her almost bruising.

 

Darcy would rather not make a habit out of watching Phil sleep, but these things just seem to happen. He's dozing in the nursery with Adelaide, both of them curled up on the little couch, and it's the sweetest goddamn thing Darcy has ever seen. After a few minutes, Phil stirs, blinking up at Darcy's fond smile. 

"Did I fall asleep?" Phil sits up carefully, trying not to jostle Adelaide, rubbing a weathered palm across his tired face.

"For a little while." Darcy smiles, but falters as Phil freezes, his warm demeanor suddenly shut off in favor of a more dangerous posture. Before Darcy can react properly, Phil has her pinned to the doorframe. 

"What did you just say?" His voice is barely a hiss, and Darcy feels fear reverberate along her spine. 

"Phil, please--"

"What did you say?" He repeats, louder and more deliberately, rage taking hold behind his usually cool blue eyes.

"I said for a little while, you just fell asleep reading to Delly, both of you had a nap, that's it, Phil," Darcy gasps, "you're hurting me, please."

* * *

She's wearing a scarf when she meets Natasha at the little diner on the south side of Chicago, even though the heat in the restaurant is more akin to a sauna than a toasty repreieve.

Natasha isn't fooled. "What happened?"

"I think he's been programmed."

"Not what I asked."

Darcy tugs at her scarf, slowly pulling it off to reveal a large hand-shaped bruise across her throat. "I startled him awake, and he reacted badly."

Natasha raises a single, well-formed eyebrow. "You just woke him."

"No." Darcy plays with her fork, trying to get it to slot against the spoon. "He said, did I fall asleep, and I said, only for a little while, and then he pinned me to the wall, and not in a fun way." She works on balancing her knife on her new silverwear see-saw. "He has nightmares, violent ones he never had before, and whenever someone mentions Tahiti, he says--"

"It's a magical place." Natasha's voice is cold, distant, her eyes trained on Darcy's architectural efforts. "Have you talked to him about it?"

Darcy shakes her head. "I don't want, don't want this again." She gestures at her throat, hands trembling slightly. "I'm scared of him, Nat," she says, voice small and tired.

"Has he hurt you before?"

"Not intentionally. He hasn't touched me since, he won't even look at me." Having completed her silverwear sculpture, Darcy moves on to the sugar packets, stacking them carefully like a house of cards.

"Darcy, I'm going to ask you something and I need you to answer with absolute honesty, okay?"

Darcy looks up, frowning. "Yeah, okay."

"You say he hasn't hurt you intentionally, not before this. I need you to tell me if he's been violent otherwise, even if you didn't think he meant to be."

"Natasha--"

"Darcy, if you don't tell me, I have other ways of finding out. This is the easiest, for you and for him."

Darcy looks down at her sugar palace and flicks it over. "When we're together, he's," she swallows nervously, "he's rougher than he used to be, not always, just when he gets back from being in the field. But it's okay, I don't mind, not really, so just leave it, please. I'm just worried that he's being controlled, still, by Fury, or someone."

Natasha is as still and cold as a glacier. "I'm glad you came to me, Darcy. I'll see what I can find out."

Darcy smiles weakly. "Thanks, Nat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one was so short as well, but there's a doozy coming up next, with lots of Talking and Feelings


	6. Load-Bearing Columns, or In Which Everything Goes to Shit, Again

"I want to be the best."

"And that's admirable. But," Phil pauses, sighs. "You haven't left the training facility since you got there. Which means you haven't seen your son since Union Station."

"Ace is fine, we talk all the time."

Phil frowns slightly. "But you haven't been to see him. Why?"

"Because the last time he saw me, I was a monster. My kid saw that."

"You can't fix that from here. Staying away, not being there, I've seen first hand the kind of damage that can do."

"The last thing I want to do is hurt Ace. He's my son, but maybe he's better off without me."

"I don't think that's true. When I took this job, I made a choice. The same choice everyone else here made. This life, over the other one, the one with holiday dinners and PTA meetings, recitals. It's not easy, but if the time comes to make the hard call, it's simpler. But you have a son, you have someone waiting for you to come home. You need to think about that. You need to think about him before you make your choice."

 

Darcy slips in after Peterson leaves. Phil looks up from his desk and smiles, but Darcy is frowning, balanced uncertainly on the balls of her feet, like she's preparing to run. "Phil, do you," Darcy stops, swallows, pulls on the sleeves of her jacket, wishing she had a set of Isabelle's rune-knives against her wrists. "Do you regret," she gestures uncertainly, "this, us, what we did? Do you regret marrying me? I mean," her words tumble out, voice soft as Phil's ever heard it. "I know that it was stupid and rash and that we never talked about kids and the only reason we have one is because I'm an idiot and I can't be trusted to remember anything past my own name, and I know that things have changed, since New York, that you're different, a different person, and I just was thinking that, well, I never asked? I never asked if you wanted me back or if you wanted me to take Del and leave and if that's what you want, that's okay, I'll do that, I've been awful and irresponsible and childish and vindictive and please just say something, Phil, anything."

Phil is frozen in his seat, stunned. "Darce, I, were you listening at the door?"

Darcy flinches. "Not on purpose, I swear, but--"

"No, no, it's okay, I'm just," Phil takes a deep breath. "Sit down, please, you look like you're about to take flight."

Darcy sits, hesitantly, on the edge of the chair. 

"I should tell you, Natasha called, she said you stopped by to see her in Chicago, that she was worried. About you, that is."

"Just for a chat, I just wanted to say hi, I hadn't--"

"It's okay, I'm not mad, don't look so scared, Darce." 

"I just, I need to know if you regret it. If you need, want me to leave."

"If I wanted you gone, I would've already asked. I mean, I do want you off the bus, because it's dangerous, but I know better than to tell you that." Phil smiles softly. "I can see how you're reaching for the knives at your wrists, even if you don't have them on."

Darcy blushes, fidgets.

"And no, Darce. I don't regret marrying you. And I have no choice to regret when it comes to Adelaide." Phil looks down at his hands. "What I regret is that we've both changed. I regret the choice I made to confront Loki, to risk my life for no clear gain, to abandon you. I regret that I let you leave, even though I didn't know any better." Phil studies Darcy, how she's hunched over herself, making herself smaller in the chair, how she won't meet his eyes. "I regret whatever I did that made you fear me."

"I don't--"

"You do, Darce. It'd be obvious even if Natasha hadn't yelled at me about it." He pauses, leaning back in his chair. "Do you regret it?"

"I don't know. I don't regret loving you. Maybe I regret getting caught up in all this, after seeing everything with Thor. I should've known better, I guess. I regret that I got so caught up in our stuff that I didn't know my little brother had been kicked out of my mom's house, that I wasn't there for him when he needed me. I regret a lot of things, Phil."

"And Adelaide?"

Darcy looks down at her feet, then out the window. "I'm not a mom, Phil. I'm twenty-four, I drink too much, I sleep around. I was just so enamoured with the idea of us, of having a family, I was sucked in by all that white-picket-fence bullshit and I never stopped to think about how that could never be us. You said it yourself, Phil, you chose the life without PTA meetings and whatever, and I chose you." She cracks her knuckles nervously. "I love Del, I do, of course I do, but I don't know how to take care of her. In New York, I had Simon and Clint and Nat, I had people and I had no other choice. You'd already named her, and you were dead, I couldn't give that up. She was all I had left. But now I see her with you?" Darcy shrugs, fiddling with the trinkets on the edge of the desk. "You are so much better for her than I am. You look the part, you know how to deal with the crying and the temper tantrums and all of it. I just don't. When I was gone, I missed her, but not so much that I wanted to come back. I don't think I would've, maybe, if Thor and Jane hadn't guilted me into it? I'm glad I came back, I'm glad that they pushed me to this, but I'm so scared, Phil, all the time. My mom never liked me much, not like she loved Simon, and I don't want Del to feel that way."

Phil looks absolutely stricken, completely wrecked. "Darce," he whispers hoarsely, "how have you not told me this before?"

"I didn't want you to see how awful I am, I didn't want you to hate me. I need you, Phil, I was selfish and I wanted to keep you, I didn't want to risk you not loving me anymore. I couldn't handle that."

Phil leans forward, grabbing Darcy's hands. He runs his thumb over Darcy's wedding rings, smiles. "For better or for worse, right? It's sappy, I know, but I promised you back then that I would love you no matter what, and I know I haven't been showing that, I know that things have been really difficult, but don't ever, ever let me hear you doubt that I love you."

Darcy looks at Phil, actually looks him in the eye. "I just don't know if that's enough, anymore. How can you still want me around, after everything I've done, after everything I've told you?"

Phil presses a kiss gently across Darcy's knuckles. "The same way you're still here with me."

* * *

"If you kill this woman, you will never see your son again." Phil's stalling, comms are down and Ward doesn't have a sight on their little powwow and for some incomprehensible reason Darcy is in the van twenty meters back. 

Peterson clenches his jaw, brow furrowed. "And if I just go along with this, you might never see your daughter."

"Remember what we talked about earlier."

Peterson huffs angrily, but lets Reyna go.

Phil doesn't look at him. "Let's do this, then."

* * *

Phil's gone. They've taken Phil and when Darcy sees the tankers and the car go up in flames, she screams, Fitz and Simmons holding her back at the van, one on each arm as she fights to get away, to run towards the explosion. 

"Darcy, calm down, Darcy, what are you doing, you can't go out there, Darcy, stop!" Fitz loses his grip on her, and Darcy breaks free from Simmons, and she's running down the empty freeway, until Mae catches up and grabs her from behind, arms around her waist like a straightjacket. "Darcy if you don't calm down I'll make you calm down. I don't need you having a panic attack in the middle of our op, we have a crisis to fix and you are. Not. Helping."

Darcy is still struggling, ineffectively fighting against Mae's hold, hair sticking to the tears on her face. Mae turns her head to call to Fitz, and he brings over the night-night gun, and a few moments later Darcy is deadweight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! At least until Jan 9, that is. I've got some stuff in the works running adjacent to the main SHIELD plot, so there may be something short up soon from Coulson's perspective, possibly in flashback, but no concrete promises. Catch you on the flipside.


	7. Sacrifice, Or Don't Antagonize a Warlock

"Agent Hand, I know Skye's methods are unorthodox, but she's a member of this team. She can help."

Agent Hand purses her lips. "Hm. And you, Miss Lewis, you're a civilian?"

Darcy bares her teeth. "It's Mrs. Coulson, and yeah. A civilian."

"Well, I can't imagine what possesed you to bring your child into this environment." She turns towards Mae. "Agent Mae, your professional opinion: will these girls be of any use to us on this plane?"

Mae raises an eyebrow. "No."

"Increase Skye's restriction level, and confiscate her phone and laptop. I want her delivered to debrief as soon as possible."

"I'll do it," Ward volunteers, laying a calming hand on Skye's shoulder.

"And Mrs. Coulson, if you and your child could be off this plane in the next hour, I'd greatly appreciate it."  
Darcy just glares for a second, then turns and walks off. She quickly packs a bag, nabbing a few things to add to her "misuse of SHIELD resources" rapsheet, and then gets a few things together for Adelaide. In twenty minutes, Del is strapped into her stroller and they're walking down the causeway and out into the desert. By the time Skye drops out of the wheel carrier and sprints to the convenient nearby rock outcropping, Darcy has a plan. Most of a plan. As long as Skye can get them to an airport, she has the outline of a plan.

As it turns out, Skye has a plan of her own, and they manage to get to the nearest airport by dark. Turns out toddlers are great decoys. They part ways, though, at security: Skye is heading out west, while Darcy is going back to Brooklyn. There's business to be had with the high warlock.

 

Simon's face when Darcy shows up at his door is truly legendary; three parts relieved and two parts furious, he looks like he's swallowed a hairy lemon. Magnus is understandbly surprised when Darcy shows up at his door, trailing a fretful Simon. "I need to get in touch with the Clairvoyant."

Magnus pales slightly. "No, you don't."

Darcy bares her teeth, shrugging off Simon's placating hand. "Don't toy with me, fairy boy."

"I'm actually a warlock, which is a different--"

"I swear to god, Magnus, I'll--"

"Okay, okay. The Clairvoyant. He's a pretty bad dude, though, Darcy, you sure you want to get mixed up with him?"

"He has my husband."

Magnus sighs, then crosses to a desk by the bay window. "He's not a downworlder, really, he's more of a...well, he's basically a hedge witch. Trained with some warlocks I know, used to contract out seer services for Nephilim. But he's been building himself a tidy little empire the past fifty years. I can't get to him, not directly, but I know someone who can." He pauses, considering. "It'll cost you."

Darcy stares Magnus down. "How much?"

He continues to stare at her, his gold cat eyes shuttered, for several uncomfortable minutes, until Simon begins to fidget, but Darcy doesn't break. "Your firstborn."

Simon cries out, furious and indignant, but Darcy and Magnus maintain their standoff. Darcy crosses her arms, tilts her head, and says, "yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short- I've been super busy lately. Will have more soon.


	8. Ritual, or Dealings with Demons

Magnus draws the requisite spell diagrams in acrylic on the hardwood floor of his front room, setting Simon to lighting candles and Darcy to standing really really still in a protective circle. When he's done with the candles, Simon retreats, heading back to the apartment, as he has "no intention of helping out with this utter bullshit."

With a dramatic eyeroll, Magnus steps into the second protective circle and begins to chant. Darcy hears the world quiet down around them, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, her goosebumps breaking over her arms, but Magnus remains steady, his voice getting louder and louder, what feels like electricity building in the air.

Finally, as Darcy feels her head might burst from the pressure in the room, Magnus stops, and fog begins to fill the central circle. The lights flicker, the window panes rattle, and Magnus snorts. "Cut it out, Bart, I've known you long enough for that to be useless."

Abruptly, the room returns to it's normal state, and the fog vanishes, leaving a young boy in a loincloth standing, relaxed, between Darcy and Magnus. "I though I'd give the mortal a bit of a fright. You know how dull it can be, tethered to one master for too long."

"I thought you'd have learned that lesson last time, demon."

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for the underdog. Now, what can I do for you today?"

Darcy clears her throat. "I need an audience with the Clairvoyant."

The demon rolls his eyes. "Of course you do. You wanna take a number?"

Magnus clicks his tongue. "It's not gonna be like that. As High Warlock of Brooklyn, I request parley with the hedgewitch known as the Clairvoyant, on behalf of one of my vassals, the God-touched."

"God-touched, eh? Who'd she run afoul of to get that distinction?"

"She," Darcy says, sweetly sinister, "is very good friends with Thor, God of Thunder."

The demon hums. "Never much liked him. His brother, sure, but again, underdogs. Blondes, though, never trust a blond."

"Parley, Bart. He's operating on my territory without my explicit license. I've let it slide, since he's only trespassed once or twice, but I'm not against changing my mind."

"Alright, alright. Gimme like five minutes." He disappears in a puff of smoke and a crack of thunder. 

Darcy moves to leave her circle, but Magnus throws out a hand to stop her. "No, Darcy. We don't know when he'll come back. Bart's very old, and very powerful. If he catches you outside my protection, who knows what he'll do."

Darcy sighs. "I hate magic."

"Yeah, well. Join the club. We've got snapbacks."

 

The demon returns a good half-hour later, smoking slightly around the edges. "I'll have you know that I hate you very much, Magnus Bane. Detest, even."

"Love you too, Bart. What've you got for us?"

"After much deliberation, the Clairvoyant has agreed to meet you in two hours, in Grand Central Market foodhall."

"Specifically?" Magnus asks, raising one perfectly-maintained eyebrow. 

The demon huffs a sigh. "Li-Lac Chocolates. Pedant."

"Whatever, djinn. You're dismissed."

"Yeah, yeah. Until next time, warlock." He disappears again, this time with much less ceremony, and Magnus steps out of his circle, waving a hand to extinguish the candles. Darcy tentatively steps out of her circle, and lets out a small sigh of relief when nothing immediately terrible happens. "Well, that was an adventure."

"Just another Tuesday, really. Here, break the circle." He tosses her a rag soaked in turpentine. "He's not a bad demon, all things considered, but he keeps ending up tethered to the worst people. Shame, really. We had some good times, back before the wheel."

"I'm sure." She cleans some of the acrylic off the floor, then tosses the rag back to Magnus. "Why does the Clairvoyant want us at Grand Central?"

"It's a hotspot for the supernatural. All sorts of things coming and going, even with half of Manhattan still lazing about in ruins. It'll be easy for him to conceal a guard, and to disappear if things go sideways."

"Delightful."

"You can still back out of this, Darcy. He may not ask for your kid, but he's going to want something pretty valuable in return for what you're asking."

"I'm gonna burn that bridge when I come to it."

 

They're leaning against a wall, pretending to chat aimlessly, when a kid, maybe twelve or thirteen, stumbles up. "High Warlock, it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Magnus inspects his cuticles. "Doubtful."

Darcy is a little dumbstruck. "This is the Clairvoyant? This snot-nosed punk?"

"Hardly, mundane. This form is just a vessel. Couldn't have you seeing my face and reporting back to your precious SHIELD, could I?" The kid chuckles, swishing his bangs to the side. "I heard you want to make a deal."

Darcy straightens up. "I want you to let Phil Coulson go."

"Oh? Well, that's interesting. You're really much too good for him, Miss Lewis. Or at least, much too young."

"That's none of your fucking business." Darcy snarls. 

Magnus puts a hand on her shoulder. "What she means to say is, how much?"

"How much to let my most interesting mystery go? I'm not sure. I really do want to know how he survived death. Though, I suppose you do too." The kid tilts his head, humming softly. "I'd ask for your firstborn, but I think that would cause too much of a ruckus. No, something else."

"Just drop the drama and name it, will you?"

The Clairvoyant grins, like a shark who smells blood. "I'll take twenty years off your life, and the promise that once the secret to your husband's resurection is revealed, you'll pass it on to me."

Darcy considers the offer, Magnus' hand still firm on her shoulder. "Make it five, and you have a deal."

"Fifteen."

"Ten."

"We have ourselves an accord. Nice doing business with you." The kid turns abruptly and saunters off.

They stand quietly for a while, watching the hum of the crowd. "That was too easy. I thought he was going to take something?"

"He has," Magnus says sadly. "Whenever you were scheduled to die, he's moved it up ten years. Maybe you were supposed to die quietly at ninety, maybe you get hit by a bus at thirty-five. Now you're dead at eighty, or later today. It's dark, powerful magic, meddling with entropy. It's not even magic, really, rather the cannibalization of the universe itself."

"Well, that'll be interesting." Darcy sighs heavily. "Thanks for your help, Magnus."

"Don't mention it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd say that it's merely a coincidence that the Clairvoyant wanted a meet-and-greet at the entrance to the GC Worldgate, but then we all know that coincidences are bullshit.


	9. Acclimation, Or How Are There Any Bad Decisions Left to Make?

Simon is waiting for Darcy when she returns to the apartment, arms crossed, scowling. "Since Adelaide is still sleeping in the other room, I assume you found something else to trade with?"

Darcy shrugs. "Something, yeah."

"You wanna tell me what it is?"

"Not particularly. Look, Simon--"

"No, Dar, you look. I get that you've got your own life, and that you're involved with some pretty weird stuff, but so am I. I am literally a vampire. But that also means I'm pretty invulnerable. You and Del, though? You're just human, and today you made a deal with a demon. You were willing to give her up, for--" He stutters, scowls further. "You were willing to give her up, for some guy."

"He's not just some guy, Simon!" Darcy snaps, advancing towards her brother.

Simon holds his hands up. "Darce, I get that, but I've never met him. All I know is that he abandoned you for over a year, and that he's what, twice your age? I don't know him. I'm your brother. I'm supposed to look out for you."

Darcy sits down heavily on the couch. "No, Simon, I'm supposed to look out for you."

"Yeah, well, it's a mutual-looking-out society. That's not my point, though. My point is that I'm not sure I can trust you with Adelaide, not anymore."

"What--" Darcy looks up, face twisted in fury.

"Hear me out, Darce," Simon says, soothingly. "I'm not sure that being with you is what's best for her. But I can hardly say that keeping her here, or even giving her to mom, are better options. So I'm going to give you a choice. You can stay here, with me or close by, and keep her. Or you can bring me with you. Show me that you can look after her, that you can keep her safe."

Darcy stares at Simon for a good few minutes, shocked into silence. "What makes you think you can keep her from me?"

Simon shrugs. "Well, for one, I'm a lot more powerful than you give me credit for. Also, I think you know deep down that I'm in the right, here. But mostly, I have Mrs. Fray and Luke on my side, and Clary too."

"So what is this, an intervention? I don't see a banner."

"Well, there wasn't much time to prepare." Simon gingerly sits down next to Darcy on the couch. "I'd like you to stay here in New York, but I get that's not what you want. Prove to me that your life now is suited to having a kid. Let me get to know your people. I want to trust you, Darcy, but what I saw today was scary. Especially if you won't tell me what you paid."

Darcy leans her head on Simon's shoulder. "I gave him ten years of my life."

"Oh, Darce, no." Simon pulls her close.

"It's okay, Simon." She sighs heavily. "Maybe you should come back with me. I've gotten so caught up in everything, maybe I've lost perspective."

"You think?"

Darcy snorts. "Yeah." She's quiet for a moment. "I'll make a few calls, see if I can get you cleared for the bus."

"The bus?" Simon pulls a face.

"You'll see."

 

They meet the team at an abandoned airfield in Brooklyn, Simon scowling in the noon sun, Adelaide on his hip. Darcy is still a little hungover from the post-touchy-feely-bonding-session drinking she succumbed to, which Simon would also be feeling if he wasn't hell spawn. The gangway of the plane falls open, and Phil steps out, looking wan and tired. "You look terrible," he says, as Darcy walks up.

"You're one to talk. At least I had some fun."

"Who says I didn't have fun?" Phil smiles, and pulls Darcy in for a kiss.

"Ugh. That is still just totally weird." Simon makes a face, covering Adelaide's eyes with his free hand.

"I think it's sweet," says Fitz as the plane rumbles to a start, gangway closing.

"Yeah, but you're not related to one of them."

Fitz lights up. "You must be Simon!"

"The one and only." He shifts Adelaide on his hip as she reaches for Fitz.

"Fith! Fith!"

"Here, I can take her." Fitz holds his arms out, but Simon doesn't let go. "She's fine with me, really," he frowns, looking hurt.

"Yeah, I'm sure, but," Simon grimaces. "I don't know you, any of you, and I just feel weird handing her off to a stranger, you know?"

Fitz shrugs. "I understand. I'm Fitz, by the way, Leo Fitz, engineering specialist."

"How many people are on this plane? Or, I guess Darce called it the bus. That's a little weird."

"Well, it's me, and then Simmons, my partner, she's biochem, and then there's Ward, the muscle; Mae, the pilot; Skye, who basically just does whatever, I'm actually not sure if she counts as an agent or not, and Coulson, who I assume you've met."

"Briefly. Slammed him against a wall, the second time." Simon gives up on trying to restrain Adelaide and lets her down, still holding on to one of her tiny hands.

"You're Darcy's brother and you don't know Coulson?" Simmons comes up from behind Fitz as the bus takes off.

"To be fair, they met and got married in like, New Mexico, during her super secret internship, while I was in New York, so..." Simon pulls a face.

Darcy punches him lightly in the shoulder, having detangled herself from Phil. "You blabbing all my secrets, Simon? These nerds don't know that story." She hugs Fitz, and then Simmons. "And to his credit, Simon was having his own brand of personal crisis while I was wooing Mr. Agent."

Simon flashes Darcy a warning look, and she sticks her tongue out in response. "Anyways, I'm here to keep an eye on the kid, mostly."

"Mostly?" Phil raises an eyebrow, wrapping an arm around Darcy's waist.

"Mostly," Simon repeats, eyes hard.

Darcy fidgets in the silence, making a few rounds of awkward eye contact with FitzSimmons, before Adelaide charmingly interrupts, having escaped Simon's care and begun climbing the stairs.

"Well, seems you're off to a good start," smirks Simmons, and Darcy snorts.

 

When the team-plus-Darcy gathers for the latest mission briefing, Simon puts Adelaide down for her nap. He stares at her small form in the crib, mulling over the situation. 1) He's on a super-secret spy plane. 2) He's about to spend an indeterminate amount of time with super-secret spies, one of which happens to be his brother-in-law. 3) He is taking care of a kid that isn't his. 4) Isabelle was probably right, this is most likely going to end poorly for all involved.

* * *

Darcy tracks Mae's passage out of the kitchen, lips pursed, plan turning over in her mind. "So, no offense to any of you, but y'all super old. It will be exceedingly obvious that you are narcs."

"I am the picture of youthful innocence," Skye protests, and everyone laughs.

"Youthful, yes, but pimply teenage nerd? No."

Ward leans forward. "What are you thinking, that you want to go in undercover?"

Darcy rolls her eyes. "Yeah, because I totally fit the profile. I spent like two years with an astrophysicist and I still can't tell a neuron from a neutrino."

"How old is your brother?" Simmons asks, narrowing her eyes.

"Eighteen," Darcy beams. "I think. Probably. And he's definitely a geek."

"First of all, what the hell is an eighteen-year-old doing on this plane, and second, we can't just send an unarmed, untrained civilian into a potential danger zone."

"First of all, I've been asking myself that question all day, and second, well, he has some interesting hidden talents."

"Talents he's willing to share with the class?"

"Nope." Simon is standing in the doorway, scowling. "Darcy, what are you doing?"

Darcy shrugs. "You wanted on the bus, kiddo. Can't help that you might be useful."

"I'm not here to get involved with your spy crap, Darce."

"Plus, since it's the middle of the semester, everyone's going to want a chunk of the new kid," Ward muses, ignoring Simon. "We'll definitely get a different perspective. Not a bad idea. Go run it over with Coulson, will you?"

"Me?" Darcy raises an eyebrow.

Skye chews on her lip. "Coulson hasn't come out of his office in a while."

"We saw him at a low. That's not easy for anybody. Coulson's as tough as they come, but..."

"But you all don't want to upset whatever delicate balance he's walking." Darcy rolls her eyes, and holds up her left hand, pointing to her rings. "Not a forcefield, idiots."

She sighs, and runs a hand through her hair. "I'll go see what I can do, though. You guys bring Simon up to speed, yeah?"

Simon grabs Darcy as she walks past, snarling. "I didn't agree to this."

Darcy just levels him an unimpressed glare. "I agreed to get you on the bus. I didn't agree to make it easy. This isn't fun and games, Simon, I have a job to do. I'm a civilian, sure, but that doesn't mean I get a free ride. If I can be helpful, if I can lessen the load? Then I will. Now let. Me. Go."

Simon releases Darcy's arm, slumping back against a bulkhead. "Are you planning on telling them about me?"

"Not unless it comes up. That's your call."

* * *

"This was the SSR facility before SHIELD was even founded." Simmons pauses, then looks at Skye and Simon. "SSR stands for--"

"Strategic Scientific reserve," they say in unison, Simon rolling his eyes.

"Darcy had a whole phase," he starts, snorting, "collected all the Cap stuff. I think she wrote her thesis on like, women in the SSR."

"No wonder she and Coulson bonded," Ward nods, a look of comprehension dawning.

"So is this where you got all your PhD's," Skye asks, bringing everyone back on topic.

"Oh, no, you need at least one to get through the door."

"Yikes," mutters Simon. "You guys know I'm like, a high school dropout, right?"

"We've got it covered," Fitz says, patting him on the shoulder. "Science and Technologies what you imagined, Agent Ward?"

"Yep. No uniforms, no rope course, no defined muscularity on anyone." Ward surveys the small campus with an expression of slight distaste.

"No marching in place, no IQ's in double digits..." Fitz trails off asa woman wearing a well-tailored skirt suit approaches.

"There they are, so good to see you," she smiles, reaching out to shake FitzSimmons' hands.

"You look lovely as ever," Simmons charms, and Fitz agrees.

"Thank you." She turns to face the rest of the group. "Agent Ward, pleasure to have you, sir."

"Agent Weaver. Let me introduce you to Skye and Simon. Skye's just here on observation, but Simon--"

"Will be integrating with the rest of the students, yes, I got Agent Coulson's message. We've got him all set up, and I have a list of suspects for you as well. It's just the top ten percent of our cadets, but I'm worried there's a bad seed."

* * *

Darcy is curled up on the couch, watching Adelaide color-sort her blocks, when Phil finally emerges from his office. He pours himself a drink and sits down in the adjacent armchair.

"Tell me I'm pretty."

Phil looks up from his scotch, frowning. "What?"

"I said, tell me I'm pretty." Darcy pulls the crocheted throw blanket tighter around her shoulders, still watching her daughter.

"Tell you--Darce, you're beautiful." He sets his glass on the side table and leans forward. "What's going on?"

Darcy sighs, but doesn't talk.

"Are you feeling ignored? Did someone say something to you? Talk to me."

"It's just, sending Simon off to play student. He and Skye and FitzSimmons, they all can still fit in there. Ward asked me if I meant that I should go in, before I offered up Si, and I said no, and I told him I wasn't Technologies material. But that's not true. I spent two years interpreting Jane, I may not have a PhD but I can still keep up. I said no because," Darcy makes a frustrated noise. "I have stretch marks, and scars, and I'm still a size bigger than before Del. I don't feel young and pretty anymore."

Phil gets up, kneels at Darcy's feet. "That may be how you feel, but that's not how I see you. I don't think that's how anyone sees you." He takes her hands, pressing a kiss on each knuckle. "You're incredible. Stunning. Gorgeous. Smart. And, if it's any consolation, you'll always look young next to me."

Darcy smiles. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

Phil laughs. "Glad to have my uses." He shifts up to sit next to Darcy on the couch, pulling her close. "And anyways, there's no use being uncomfortable about age when you're with SHIELD. Practically every other person looks twenty years younger than they should. Mae just turned fifty. And even I'm not totally sure how old Natasha is, but she's certainly been around longer than me. You're not even twenty-five yet, Darce, you've got plenty of time to get old. And I'll love you even if you do turn grey and wrinkly before you're thirty."

Darcy narrows her eyes. "There is literally no way Mae is fifty. That's insane. That can't be true."

"That's the thing you focus on? Really?"

"I mean, have you seen her? She's like, Mulan. So bangable. I mean, not that old people can't be attractive, but she's like, normal hot." Darcy stares at Phil, brow furrowed. "You just totally changed my life. I gotta find out her secret."

"Pilates, mainly." Mae is standing by the bar, not-smiling in the way that means she's highly amused.

"Incredible."

* * *

Simon's slouching in the back row of the auditorium when the commotion starts. It's nothing he's ever seen before, a kid getting turned into an iceberg, and he's seen some weird shit. He vaguely wishes he was still under the protection of the mark of Cain. He stays in his seat as everyone pushes forward to watch, reluctant to get involved. Darcy may have forced him onto the team, but she can't force him to participate. He knows it's her ploy to get him off the bus and out of her hair, to get him so overwhelmed and freaked out that he gives up, but she's only proving his point, and anyways, Simon's stood face to face with an angel of God. A couple of homicidal nerds are hardly a challenge. When the auditorium begins to clear, after the wonder twins save the day, he joins the herd, following the students out to the commons. He pauses at the edge of the lobby, examining a small monument.

"The Wall of Valor," a voice says from behind him. "Every SHIELD facility's got one."

Simon turns. "Little depressing, really."

The guy laughs, dark hair falling into his eyes. "That's one way to look at it." He sticks out his hand. "I'm Seth Dormer. You're new, right?"

"Just arrived today. I'm Simon Lewis."

"Nice to meet you. What's your specialty?"

"Not quite sure. First day, and all." Simon hunches his shoulders slightly. While he's better with science than Darcy, that's not an entirely impressive achievement.

"That's fair. Hey, you want to come hang out, meet a few people?"

"Sure."

* * *

Darcy takes Adelaide for a walk in the park by the airport, enjoying the feel of warm sun against her skin. Adelaide finds an iguana perched on a rock, and spends twenty minutes staring at it with the kind of intensity only a toddler can muster. She gets a text from Phil around eleven, reminding her that sunscreen really should be reapplied hourly, and separates Del from her new reptile friend.

As Darcy heads back to the bus, Adelaide on her hip, she catches sight of a figure leaned up against the landing gear. She walks faster, a grin breaking across her face.

"Buddy!"

"Hey, Darce." Clint steps forward to meet her, smiling, and holds out his arms for a hug.

"You give a hell of a silent treatment, Barton."

"What can I say, it's a skill." He kisses her on the cheek, and then the top of Adelaide's head. "I was down in Peru when Coulson texted me. Said you could use a friend."

"Always."

* * *

Simon's leaned up against the bar, watching the students mingle in the flashing lights. He can smell how alive they are, smell their determination and their potential. Hunger dances through his veins, light, suggestive, not yet to the point of screaming.

"You have a lower-than-average body temperature," a girl drawls, pointing a little laser at him from the other end of the bar. "That, or my equipment's malfunctioning."

Simon grins, can see the vein in her neck rushing with life, the predator in him stretching out, licking its lips. "Why don't you come over here and find out?"

"Already making friends, I see. Go hustle some pool off Ops over there, leave this poor kid alone." Dormer slides onto the stool next to Simon, grinning. The girl sticks her tongue out, but does what she's told. Simon is equal parts relieved, disappointed, and amused. "Sorry about that, but she'd eat you up and spit you back out before midterms."

"I'm sure. So what's the deal with the titanic re-enactment?"

* * *

"I'm surprised he reached out to you, honestly," Darcy says over her mostly-gin-and-tonic, scowling.

"Trouble in paradise?" Clint leans forward, frowning.

"Natasha didn't tell you?"

"Natasha doesn't tell me anything, and I've been deep cover in the jungle for months, anyways."

"He's been," Darcy sighs. "Different, since he came back. Harsher." She downs the rest of her drink, wincing slightly. "We've had a few," she hums, "conflicts. I asked Natasha to step in."

"Jesus." Clint looks appropriately stricken. "Darce, he isn't--"

"It's not intentional, no. At least, I don't think so. I don't really know. But he's good with Del, still."

"He said your brother came onboard, is that--"

"No, that's just because he doesn't trust me with Del anymore."

Clint narrows his eyes. "Is there a reason for that?"

Darcy stares hard at her glass. "A few. When Phil was taken, I went back to New York. Simon has a friend there, lots of connections."

"Connections you used."

"Yep."

"Aw, Darce, no. What did you do?"

"I made a deal, Clint. Not a bad one, all things considered."

Clint puts his head in his hands. "Christ."

"So Simon objected to my style of negotiation, and decided to babysit for a while." She laughs dryly. "Taught him a lesson, though. Trapped at the academy."

Clint looks up, stares at her intensely, eyes sad. "God, Darcy. What's happened to you."

Darcy shrugs. "What hasn't."

They sit in silence for a good while, until Phil and Mae hustle another agent onboard. Clint hugs her goodbye, muttering something about Afghanistan, and Darcy hides out behind the bar, eavesdropping, drink in hand.

* * *

They land back at the Academy, and the rest of the team stumbles on, led by Fitz, who's clutching the back of his neck. Darcy spots Simon skulking in a few minutes later, and goes up to him on the pretense of a hug. "You've got red on you," she murmurs, and Simon raises a hand to his face, swiping a thumb across the corners of his mouth, then licking it clean. "Delightful," Darcy says, pulling a face, and Simon grins, his fangs sliding out.

"What, did you want some?"

Darcy rolls her eyes and punches him lightly in the shoulder. Fitz and Simmons are briefing Mae and Coulson, and suddenly Simon steps forward, chiming in. "They're being backed by a guy named Quinn. They're planning on giving him a demonstration since they got caught out by SHIELD, in the parking lot, probably." Hands in his pockets, shoulders slouched, fangs retracted once more, Simon is the picture of a sullen teenager, but his voice is steady, confident.

The team stares at him. "How'd you get all that so fast," Ward asked, eyes narrowed.

"I'm very unassuming," Simon grins, eyes glinting.

* * *

"An object of unknown origins." Darcy stares at Skye, chin in hand. "That's pretty cool."

Skye looks shocked. "He told you?"

"They forgot to check behind the bar when they were having their super secret spy social. I happened to be quality testing our gin at the time. Happy coincidence, really."

"Do you really think it's cool, or are you--"

"No, no, it's totally cool. I mean, my first 0-8-4 happened to be a very cut norse god, so I figure you're in good company."

"You also hit him with a truck."

"Nah, that was Jane. Both times." Darcy stares at Skye for a few more moments as the girl fidgets. "He's a little obsessed with you."

"What?"

"Phil. He's incredibly focused on you. You're cute and all, and you're certainly not boring, but he's like, got some serious tunnel vision going on."

"I'm sorry?" Skye looks incredibly uncomfortable.

"It's not your fault." Darcy sighs heavily, then smiles. "You've probably got like, alien hypnotic pheromone powers."

Skye snorts. "Green skin, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took ages, winter term was a nightmare. Next chapter up tomorrow.


	10. Contractual Mortality

She makes it on the train mostly because there's no way she's not going to bear witness to Jemma pretending to be Phil's daughter. Later, after everything, Darcy decides it was definitely worth all the trouble. When the train stops and their hidey-hole is stormed, she takes a moment to be thankful that her daughter is in very capable, immortal hands, and follows Skye and Fitz out into the Italian countryside. It's decided that she'll go into the mansion alongside Skye, acting as backup insofar as the blind can lead the blind, but she's got a couple knives--normal, not covered in sacred runes, to her immense disappointment--shoved up her sleeves and a thug's pistol in her hands, and she's pretty sure they can do this. 

Darcy realizes that she's made a major miscalculation just as Peterson grows a new metal leg that Stark is definitely going to want to take a copyright-related look at. Skye is trying to talk to Peterson, trying to create some sort of reasoned order from the shitstorm Darcy knows is about to go down. Darcy pulls her back, clenching a hand on Skye's shoulder, willing her to shut up, as Quinn puts the gun in Peterson's hands. She freezes, stepping forward to stand level with Skye, and Quinn laughs.

"Oh, Coulson's other half. Now, I'm betting Mike and I both have some pretty specific orders regarding you."

Darcy shudders. "I'm sure that's true."

"But what would hurt more, do you think, losing his wife, or his pet project? I've heard you two have had some trouble, lately."

Skye is trembling under Darcy's hand, so Darcy keeps talking, stalling. "The Clairvoyant knows exactly where I stand with regards to my husband, Quinn."

"Hmm." Quinn looks vaguely bored. "Peterson, you can go."

Mike stomps out on his new leg, and Skye, stupid stupid Skye, tries to follow. Darcy tries to hold her back, but she rounds on Quinn, seething. "What the hell did you do to him?"

Darcy throws a quick glance at Quinn's finger on the trigger, at the look in his cold eyes, and makes yet another bad decision.

* * *

Phil sees the blood on Quinn's hand and his heart goes cold. He hauls Quinn upright, pressing his gun into the man's jaw. "Where's Darcy and Skye?"

Quinn smiles. "You know, Agent Coulson, I'd have told you that it's dangerous to keep sending Skye in, all on her own, but it turns out that her having backup comes to the same result. It's a shame, since they both mean so much to you. Or rather, I suppose, meant."

Phil slams the butt of his pistol into Quinn's forehead. He looks up at Ward and Fitz, desperation taking hold behind his eyes. "Search the house, now! Find them!"

He barrels down to the lower level, throwing open door after door, until he literally stumbles upon two bloodied forms. "Oh, no, oh God, no," he murmurs, falling to his knees. Skye is slumped over Darcy, who is crumpled on the cold stone floor. "Simmons," Phil yells, "get down here!" He pulls Skye off of Darcy, gently, and he's overwhelmed with relief when he feels her pulse beat soft and slight under his fingers. He leans her against the wall, and turns back for Darcy. 

When the rest of the team runs in, he's cradling her in his arms, looking blankly down at her lifeless face. Jemma comes over to check her, but he waves her off. "She's gone," he croaks, "but Skye, she's still alive. Save Skye."

 

They get Skye in the hyperbaric chamber and back to the plane, Ward carrying Darcy's body. He sets it gently on the floor of the cargo bay, safe and out of the way. 

Simon walks carefully down the spiral stairs as the team discusses next steps. He can smell blood in the air, which isn't unusual, but it's more than usual, and this time he's struck with a feeling of absolute dread. He sees the blood on Simmons' hands, and then on Coulson's, his usually neat suit rumpled and crimson. 

"What--" Simon breathes, and Phil looks up, his face going from defeat to hope in a matter of seconds. Coulson crosses to face Simon, eyes crazed and desperate. 

"You. You can--" He chokes, then takes a moment to compose himself. "Darcy was shot. She's dead. Can you--"

Simon feels the world drop out from under him. He moves forward, fast and strong, pinning Coulson against the glass wall of the lab. "How could you let this happen," he demands, cold and dangerous. 

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." Coulson at least has the good sense to look terrified. Absently, Simon knows there's a gun or two pointed at his head, but that's hardly important. 

"You, you're," Coulson's words stumble, "can you fix this?"

Simon draws back, his fangs resting against his lower lip. "Can I turn her? No." He thinks back, to being drained of blood, to an ancient mother, to a tank on a rooftop.

"I could bring her back, but." His gaze flickers to Skye, still breathing shallowly in the glass and chrome tube. "But someone else would have to die, or worse."  
Coulson looks stricken. "What?"

"It's dark, dark magic. A balance must be kept. Usually, one life, for another." Simon looks hard at Coulson, then over to the corner where Ward tucked Darcy's body. "I'm uniquely equipped to facilitate such an exchange."

Mae steps forward. "You can't seriously consider that. It's tantamount to murder. Darcy would never allow it."

Simon bares his fangs at her, snarling. "How do you know? How could you know what she wants? She's my sister, and I can bring her back."

"Bring her back? What are you talking about?" Simmons steps forward, looking wrecked.

"He's a child of the night," Mae murmurs. "A vampire."

"I won't let you sacrifice Skye." Ward stands, menacing, one hand on Simmon's shoulder. 

"Nor will I," says Fitz, and Mae nods in agreement. 

Simon looks at them, watching their determined faces and the blood beneath. "Fine. I'll take him instead," he growls, and lunges for Coulson. Immediately he hears the crack of gunfire, and bullets lodge themselves in his chest. He fights tooth and nail, but daylighter or no, five to one is hard odds. They subdue him, Mae producing a silver chain to bind him, and throw him into an empty storage container. 

 

After, Phil stands motionless over Skye's body, watching the rise and fall of her chest, watching the glass over her face fog slightly. Simmons leaves, and then Fitz, and Ward stalks out to the cargo bay. Mae watches Phil. "What do you want to do with Darcy's body?"

He's silent for a few minutes, then, "if Skye lives, if we can save her, then it'll be okay. It'll be worth it. Right?" He looks up at Mae, eyes pleading.

Mae stares at him, then turns to leave. "Go to your daughter, Phil," she commands, and shuts the doors behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter up by the end of the week


	11. Contract Negotiations

There's a tingle that runs across the edge of her spine, a niggling thought at the back of her skull, there's danger like salt in the air. There's darkness, too, but that's secondary, a mere complement to the insistent scraping of mortality against her skin. She wakes slowly, unsure, testing the boundaries of consciousness. There's a word, or several, on the tip of her tongue, but that can wait. Oxygen is pressing into her lungs like water, forceful and unrelenting, claustrophobic. There's sound all around her, rushing like the tides, and there's a dull, floaty ache in her shoulder. Her neck feels cricked, cramped, and the floor underneath her hands is cold and smooth. It takes her a few counts to open her eyes, making it to three, and then five, then ten. The fluorescence is blinding, overwhelming like the roar of the engines and the staccato whispers of the shouting match somewhere to her right. She wiggles her toes triumphantly, then her fingers, and pushes herself forward, knees bent, head bowed. The nausea isn't as bad as the bugs that must be crawling through her veins, so she takes a few more counts, ten, fifteen, thirty, and stands. Her teeth are fragile and her tongue transmuted into lead, but she coughs, softly, then louder, her throat crying out. 

A scream, now, and the crash of fallen glass. The voices soothe into silence, tense and taut, stares boring into her aching form. She coughs again, then works a few syllables out. "Is Skye okay," she asks, the words surprising her as memories burst like bubbles against her mind. She takes a step forward, and staggers, her knees locked with dust. "Is she alive?"

There's a gun drawn on her now, or two, and Darcy begins to pull her consciousness back together, holding it in like ribbons in the wind. 

A voice from above, fractured and weak, breaks against her name, and Darcy looks up, her husband on the balcony, stained with blood, eyes wild and terrified.

"What happened?"

Phil staggers down the stairs, but keeps his distance behind the others, behind Ward and Mae, behind two shield-issue weapons. "You're dead."

Darcy looks down at herself, can hear a whisper by her ear murmuring something about debts and bargains, then back up, a wry smile stretching grotesque over crimson-stained lips. "Only mostly, I think."

"You were dead," Simmons says, walking forward, brushing off Ward's protective arm, "you were very dead. No pulse, no brain activity. Rigor mortis was setting in. Did set in."

"And you just left me on the floor? Damn." Darcy knows, in some absent, abstract place, that she has feelings, that she's panicked and scared and choking, but that's still out of reach, still muted. "But Skye? I remember, Quinn had a gun, and I pushed her aside, but then I fell and I don't remember what happens next."

Mae lowers her gun a fraction, relaxes her shoulders. "They stabilized her at medical, but she won't last long." 

Darcy looks at the floor, the spot where she'd been propped up against a bulkhead, then up at the team. She grows cold again, but differently, her fingers twitching, her blood roiling. "And you just left me here. On the floor." Her voice is cruel, clipped. She doesn't look at Phil. "Where is my brother?"

"In containment," Ward responds, holstering his gun. "He was...difficult to subdue."

"I'd like to speak with him, now." Darcy is focusing on the icy pinprick of hate growing within her, malnourished for months and months.

"I'm not sure that's wise," says Mae, and Darcy snarls, wild and lethal, and she flinches. 

"I'll let you in," says Coulson, softly, carefully. 

* * *

Simon just looks at her, his face an untelling void, until the door clicks shut. "What did you do? What deal did you make this time?"

Darcy smiles, again, wide and empty. "The same one as before. Conditions just changed a bit. Nothing new given or recieved."

"Still needed to fulfil your end of the bargain?" Simon sits heavily on the cot, staring into his hands.

"Or something. Contract's a contract." Darcy sits next to him, pressing close. "They say I died."

"We should start a club." Simon relaxes, slightly, grabbing hold of her hand and squeezing tight. He's silent for a long moment, then, "I can save the other one. Couldn't save you, too far gone, but her? I can fix her."

Darcy just tucks her head against his shoulder, and shivers. "Not sure she'd want that."

"Would you?"

Darcy doesn't have an answer for that. Eventually they melt into each other, curling up on the cot like children, limbs interlaced and interchangeable. She doesn't sleep.

* * *

 

"We need to know how you came back, Darcy. This wasn't like with Phil or Skye, a miracle cure at the last minute, you were dead. Even Simon couldn't save you, and that's a can of worms I'd love to keep sealed shut." Simmons' eyes are wide, the picture of innocence and sincerity, but Mae standing at her shoulder rather ruins the illusion.

Darcy looks over at Simon, who shrugs. "Alright. But everyone should hear."

They gather around in the briefing room, Darcy at the head of the table, her brother by her side. Phil is at the other side, looking stonily down at his hands. 

"When Phil was captured and Hand kicked me off the plane, I went back to New York. I have a friend, or really, an aquaintence, who I though could help. Magnus Bane, the high warlock of Brooklyn. I asked him to help me contact the Clairvoyant. Turns out, Magnus' heard of him, nothing good. Warned me away, but I didn't listen. I struck a deal with the Clairvoyant to let Phil go."

"A deal?" Ward's voice carries over the shocked murmurs of the group. 

"Ten years of my life, and the guarentee I'd tell him how Phil was resurrected."

"Ten years of service?" Fitz looks confused.

"No. Literally, years of my life. I'm not sure how it works. Magnus said it was some very dark magic. But that was the deal, and it worked. As far as I can figure out, he brought me back because I hadn't yet held up my end of the bargain."

Phil looks up, face impassive. "You're lying."

"What?" Simon says, voice curt. "I was there. It's true."

"The Clairvoyant isn't magical or extrahuman, he's human. A SHIELD agent. And even if you are telling the truth? You met the Clairvoyant, and didn't tell us. You agreed to betray SHIELD secrets."

"I did what needed to be done. You should understand that."

"And Simon? Is he a spy, too?"

"I'm here to look after my sister."

"Seems like you've done a great job of that."

"Don't be an asshole, Phil. It's not like you've done any better."

Mae makes eye contact with Ward over the table, and they silently clear FitzSimmons and Skye out of the room. Skye looks like she desperately wants to stay, but Mae has a pretty good hold on her left ear. 

"Excuse me?"

"I've put up with a lot from you, this past year. I've done everything to try and make this, make us, work. But you've done nothing of the sort."

"You left! For a year, you left. And then you just wander on back and expect me to pick right up where we'd left off?"

"I left because you died, Phil, and because you didn't come back for me. Yeah, they wiped your memories, but you would have known something was wrong if you even attempted to make contact with anyone not on this damn plane."

"Why did you come back, then? If this is how you feel, why did you come back?"

"I had hope, Phil! I loved you! And for a while, it was worth all the hard work, all the fighting and the violence and the weird secret spy crap. But it's been getting harder and harder to remember who I fell in love with. You're pushing everyone away, me, Mae, everyone but Skye. She's a person, Phil, not a mystery to be solved or a project to be finished!" Darcy is shouting, and Simon decides it's his turn to slink slowly out of the room.

"What does Skye have to do with anything?" Phil slams his hand down on the table, snarling.

"You treat her better than anyone else on this stupid bus, including me. With her, you're patient and kind and sweet and considerate--like you should be with me. Instead, you've been self-centered, manipulative, abusive, and mean. You've had your good moments, of course you have, but they're getting overshadowed by the rest."

"You expect me to believe you sacrificed parts of yourself for my survival, even though you think I'm that awful?"

Darcy throws her hands in the air, frustrated. "I thought it would get better! I figured you were going through a hard time, that it would pass, that if I just gave you the benefit of the doubt, you'd eventually be yourself again. I didn't just marry you on a whim, Phil!" Darcy pauses and laughs. "Okay, I totally did, but it was also because I loved you! I still love you, maybe, but I can't even tell anymore. Simon said I needed perspective, that my deal with the Clarivoyant was a step too far, a sign that I was in way too deep. And I'm beginning to think he's right."

Phil is silent for a few long seconds. "Do you regret what you did?"

Darcy sighs, heavily. "Of course not. Even if you're a shitty husband, you have an amazing capacity to do good. You're a great agent, Phil. You do great things." She rubs a hand over her face, and slumps against the glass wall. "But you also haven't looked at me since I woke up on the floor of the cargo bay, so I don't really know what to do with you."


	12. Collateral

"I heard what you said. About me, I mean." Skye is standing outside the SUV, door open just enough for her to look in.

Darcy looks over at her, then sighs. "Come on in." 

Skye slips in, and locks the door behind her. They sit quietly together, slightly awkward. 

"Sorry for stealing your hidey-hole. Fitz has gotten too good at chasing me out of the supply closets."

"It's okay."

"I didn't mean anything against you. It's not your fault. I'm shouldn't have brought it up." Darcy leans her head against the back of the driver's seat. "I just. It sucks, that he did everything to save you, but just. Left me on the floor. I talked to Mae, and from the time we got shot, to the time I woke up, that was like thirty hours. They didn't even put me in a morgue unit. Didn't cover me with a sheet."

Skye grabs gently on to Darcy's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Darcy, it was my fault. You got shot, you died, trying to protect me, you had no reason to do that."

Darcy looks up, surprised. "Of course I had a reason. Skye, you're part of his team, you're important. They need you. He needs you. You think I would just let you die, when I could try to stop it?"

Skye swallows, looking pale and sad. "I shouldn't have dragged you into it, I should have been more careful."

"We should have both been more careful. But you didn't drag me into anything. I make my own choices." Darcy pulls her knees up to her chest, tilting her head back. "It was the right choice to make."

"He needs you, too," Skye says, after a moment. 

"No, I don't think he does. Not anymore, at least." She can feel her throat tightening, her eyes beginning to sting with tears. "He's changed so much, I don't think there's anything left for me here. Simon was right."

"What was he like? When you met, I mean. Neither of you really talk about before, you joke about it, but you've never told us. Not that you need to, of course--"

"We met in New Mexico. He showed up with a team at Jane's lab, took all her data, her equipment. He was a real dick about it. Typical men in black crap. Didn't see him again until the Destroyer hit. Then after that, in the clean-up after Thor left, he was around quite a bit. Supervising the team SHIELD gave Jane for research, and the protection detail. I was pretty much useless at that point, so I ended up haranguing  him about my iPod that he confiscated. I was bored, and he was mainly just babysitting, so we spent a lot of time together. He proposed a week before my internship ended. We got married, I moved back to New York. Saw him every few months, he was still working on Project PEGASUS. Then he died. You know the rest." Darcy looks over at Skye, who seems to be hanging on her every word. "It was a fling, at first. He was this total mystery, quintessential Secret Agent. Took weeks to get him to smile. Very closed off, very stoic. Funny, though. Dry. Taught me how to cheat at poker. I don't know why he asked me to marry him. We were total opposites. It should have been a disaster. I guess it is, now."

"He loves you, though."

"And I loved him. But I graduated college the same week we got married, and I was still recovering from the highly traumatic experience of nearly getting killed by a giant space robot. He and Barton were the only two people I had contact with, besides Jane. It's not some sort of fairy tale romance. We'd known each other for four months, barely. I didn't even tell anyone until I found out--" Darcy stops, frowns. 

"What did you find out," Skye prompts, gently.

"I don't remember." Darcy turns to face Skye, crossing her legs and sitting up straight. "I told Clary, one of Simon's friends, but now I can't remember why. I know there was a reason, a big one."

"Was it after New York?"

"No, that's when Simon--" Darcy stops. "No, Simon met Phil, right before. Phil picked me up at Simon's apartment, and we went to a hotel, and I told him."

"Told him what?"

Darcy makes a frustrated noise. "I can't remember! Whatever it was, I think it's the same thing that made me tell Clary. It was important, I know it was." Darcy feels slightly panicked. "Skye, why can't I remember?"

Skye looks worried. "Do you think," she shakes her head, "you don't think SHIELD did anything? They took Coulson's memories, could they have taken something from you?"

"Phil remembers, now, though. We don't have any discrepancies, we checked." Darcy takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself, her hands shaking. "What if, when I died, what if something happened. The Clairvoyant brought me back, but what if--" she trails off, looking sick.

"What if he took something, for the trouble." Skye grabs Darcy's hands. "Do you have anything from back then with you? Anything that could jog your memory?"

Darcy chews on her lower lip, flushing slightly. "I still have the case Hill gave me, with Phil's effects in it. I never gave them back to him."

"Well, lets go look at it."

 

They hole themselves up in Skye's bunk, locking the door and laying the case between them on the bed. 

"Can you open it?" Darcy whispers, still trembling slightly.

"Yeah, yeah, of course." Skye reaches out and opens the clasps on the case with a snap. She empties it out on the bed, and sets it to the side.

There's some clothes, an empty donut wrapper, the bloodstained Captain America trading cards. Darcy wonders idly whose blood they're covered in. A bag of coffee, a flask, some photos. 

"Is that Hawkeye?" Skye asks, voice incredulous. "And the Black Widow?"

Darcy smiles. It's from the wedding, all of them assembled outside the Puente Aguinto courthouse, squinting slightly in the sun. "Yeah, that's Clint and Nat. And there's Jane, and Erik Selvig."

"Wow." Skye sets it and the other photos aside, all of them shots of Darcy, or Darcy and Phil and some permutation of the wedding party. The last two things on the bed are a list of names, and a USB drive.

"Oh my God," Darcy whispers. "I never opened that. I forgot. I kept meaning to, and then."

Skye grabs her laptop from the floor, and after a few tries, plugs the USB in. "Maybe it has the answer. Do you want me to leave?"

"No, please, stay."

The drive contains a text file and a single video. The document has a few more names on it, with phone numbers, a few addresses, and a paragraph that's just long strings of numbers. 

"Account codes, I think."

Darcy feels dizzy. "All this time, I thought he had just gone and died and left me nothing, when it turns out I was just too stupid to look."

"Darcy--"

"Let's just watch the video, okay?"

 

Phil's sitting at a desk, the lights behind him bright and fluorescent. He looks tired, worn, like the last time Darcy saw him before he died. 

_"Hey, Darce. Hopefully you never see this, but things are about to get pretty bad, so I wanted to make sure, well." He looks down at his hands, closes his eyes. "I saw you yesterday, we were at the Waldorf. You looked so happy. If that's the last time I get to see you, I'm glad that was it. In the file, there's some names, contacts. People who owe me. Addresses to a few of my safehouses, and some accounts. If you get this, either we've lost, and you can use it to try to stay safe, or we won, and you can use it to start over, both of you."_

"Oh, God," Skye gasps. "Oh, no."

Darcy doesn't get it, doesn't understand, but on the video Phil is still talking.

_"I came up with a few names, today. It's probably too early for that, but I don't care. I told Nat, and Thor. I hope you don't mind. They'll take care of you, I hope, and Clint, too, if we get him back." He pauses, closes his eyes for a moment. "I really hope that, in a few days, I can destroy this, and we can go buy a house together. Decorate a nursery. Fight over baby names. I want to give you everything. I can't retire, but I'll get a desk job. Take the promotion Fury's been nagging me about. We can have the white picket fence, and a dog, and I'll keep my promise. But if I can't, Darcy, I'm sorry. I love you, and I'm sorry. You'll make it through, you'll be strong. You are strong. Raise our kid good, Darce. I love you, always."_

The video cuts out. Darcy staggers to her feet, wrenching the door open and bolting to the bathroom. She throws up, her whole body shaking. After a few moments, she stands, leaning heavily on the sink, and rinses her mouth out. She runs the water as cold as it will go and splashes it over her face, trying to regain some semblance of composure. She goes back to where Skye is still sitting, silent and shocked, in her bunk. "Give it to Phil. He should see it."

Skye nods jerkily. "What are you going to do?"

"I need to talk to Jemma. She can do tests. I need to know if it's true."

 

Skye opens the door to Coulson's office without knocking, the USB drive making imprints on her palm. He's sitting at his desk, slumped back in his chair, staring out the window.

"Coulson, I'm sorry, but I was just with Darcy, and she had this thumb drive from you, but she'd never opened it, so she didn't know what was on it, but you have to see the video on it, right now, Coulson, you need to see this." Skye is talking fast, babbling almost, her panic visible, and Coulson sits forward, immediately attentive, worried.

"What's on it?"

Skye swallows nervously, fiddling with the drive, not looking directly at Coulson. "I don't. Um. You have to watch it." She sets the drive on the desk and steps back, hovering by the door. 

Coulson grabs the drive and slots it into his laptop on the first try. The part of Skye that isn't totally freaking out wonders if that's a skill they teach at the SHIELD academies. 

She watches him as he watches the video, his face unreadable. When it's over, he starts it again. He watches the video three more times before he stands. "It's genuine. Where is she?" His voice is shut off, tight. 

Skye startles at being addressed. "Um. She went to see Jemma, in the lab."

Coulson brushes past her, walking quickly to the spiral staircase, where he breaks into a run.

 

Darcy's sitting on one of the tables in the lab, Jemma standing next to her, the both of them staring in silence at the results of the scans, projected above the holotable. 

Phil storms in. "Is it true?"

Darcy doesn't look at him. "I had a baby. Almost two years ago."

"And you never told me." Phil's voice is cold, scary.

Jemma and Skye turn to him, shocked. "She didn't know, Coulson," protests Skye. 

"We had to run tests, to confirm," Jemma says, immediately.

Phil stares at Darcy. "How could you not know?"

"I think." Darcy pauses, stands to face Phil. "I think that's what the Clairvoyant took as payment."


End file.
